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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25570618">Villain of Your Fairytale</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraMoras/pseuds/AuroraMoras'>AuroraMoras</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hercai (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Introspection, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:28:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,962</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25570618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraMoras/pseuds/AuroraMoras</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>ReyMir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Villain of Your Fairytale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Her white dress shone brightly in this cold, dark cabin. She clung to him, holding onto his arm thinking him her savior. And it hurt. Her hands were cold yet her touch burned holes across his skin. It was a new pain, one he never experienced before.<br/>

Entire day passed in a strange mix of extreme alertness and absolute numbness. Certain moments, he wasn’t even himself. An onlooker, just watching as someone broke down the door to Shadoglu Konak, guided the horse with a girl in white perched atop, danced with the father of the bride. He wasn’t himself except when she would look at him and smile. She could bring him down and ground him instantly, along with that nauseating pull in the pit of the stomach, with the insatiable need to be even closer, to consume, to hold and never let go.<br/>

The one thing he couldn’t do.<br/>

Or maybe he could.<br/>

Would she listen if he told her? Would she understand? Did she love him enough to just run away… What if he took her hand and simply forgot everything, uprooted them both and just left, never looking back. No…<br/>

Even if she did love him enough, that love was for someone other than him. For someone who could love. For someone who smiled. For someone who built her a swing to the sky, who brought her shells so she could hear the sea. Who thought her to ride a bike. For someone who climbed roofs and was captivated by her voice and songs she sang… and who brought her roses. He wasn’t that man. He could never be. She didn’t love him.<br/>

Perhaps, tomorrow, she will become same as him. Perhaps, he will destroy everything innocent in her and then she’ll vow never to love again. She’d understand what he already knows, that love is this fickle, distant thing that people only ever dream about and can never truly have. The only real love is that of a parent for a child. One he was robbed of. One they stole from him. The reason he was here…<br/>

Soon warm light from the gas lamp lit the cabin and fire roared in the fireplace. It didn’t warm him, but maybe she wouldn’t be as cold. She would be able to absorb the heath and the light. How could she not. She was made of it. From the first moment he saw her, she drew him in, like a moth to the flame. He still kept the butterfly as a cruel irony.<br/>
And for that reason alone, she’d never look at him the way she looks at that other version of him, that man who doesn’t even exist. That shy look of first love, trust, of complete and utter surrender… he will never have that. Can a man be jealous of himself-<br/>

“Take off the dress, Reyyan!”<br/>

Look of fear and confusion on her face slashed at his insides. Did he lie so convincingly that this wretched version of himself was truly coming to life somewhere inside, forming out of nothing, protesting when of her face was anything other than happiness?<br/>

Even if it was true, he wouldn’t win. Not this fight… Not when it was everything he worked for his entire life. Every waking moment, every dream was filled with this revenge. But there was a new hunger coming to life inside him, like a lion waking up.<br/>

“Because of the rain, you got wet. You won’t be able to warm up in that dress, that’s why”, different, softer voice spoke. “There is a curtain over there you can change behind”.<br/>
She stands up slowly, nods and her head stays bowed. He hates himself.<br/>

Curtains are drawn together, but her form is perfectly silhouetted against the light of the lamp. A shadow theater playing just for him, for his desires… Instantly he knows the scent of roses she has released into the air as she loosens the veil from her hair. Rustling of the fabric thrums inside him as she slowly drags the sleeves over her slender arms. The dress falls down and she steps out of it, one knee into the air, then another.<br/>

Two beasts are watching her. One that’s clenching the ring against his chest… that ring that embodies all the pain and anger of his life. And the other, just recently awoken… by her. Gnawing at his insides, thrashing to be released so it can curl up at her feet, show his wounds, beg to be healed. He loses focus for just a second and misses as they morph into one.<br/>

He can’t take it anymore. It two steps he’s there, pushes the curtains open and is face to face with her. But it is that same look again, those doe-like eyes, again taming him on the spot. Just a small gasp that escapes her, it roots him to the ground and all he can do is stare back. She brings one hand to her chest, to protect herself or to calm a beating heart, he’ll never know. Damn it all to hell, he can’t do it… Instead, he reaches for the blanket and wraps it around her shoulders. Just an excuse to wrap himself around her, too.<br/>
<i>-When you’re about to fall, I’ll always catch you.</i><br/>
<i>-And what if you can’t… What if I fall.</i><br/>
<i>-Then I’ll jump. I’ll fall with you…</i><br/>

“I’ll make some tea”, he says, releasing her, desperately trying to ease her trembles from his own fingers.<br/>

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks her minutes later as they sit opposite each other in front of the fire.<br/>

“No reason”, she replies, soft smile playing on her lips as she lowers her eyes and they disappear under rows of lashes. “Just, I don’t know a lot about you…”<br/>

<i>True. You don’t know anything about me… If you did, you’d never be here… You’d never look at me like you did, you’d never smile at me-</i><br/>

“You know who I am, you know my family, what I do…”<br/>

“I don’t mean that”, she says again, softly, smiling. “More like, what is your favorite food?”<br/>

“I’m not a picky eater”, he states matter-of-factly. <i>I would eat anything out of your hand…</i><br/>

“And your favorite color?” She is eager, child-like curiosity made her eyes wide.<br/>

“Black.” <i>Soft pink of your cheeks when you blush…</i><br/>

“And song?”<br/>

“I don’t listen to music.” <i>Except when you sing…</i><br/>

She nods and he tries not to notice the disappointment on her face. But it lasts only a second before she’s tries again. “And what were you like when you were a child?”<br/>

<i>Don’t go there. Don’t do it.</i><br/>

“Same as everyone else, I guess”, he starts. “Actually, no… I was angry, I wasn’t really a happy child”.<br/>

“Why?”<br/>

She doesn’t do anything, but in her eyes it is clear. She is itching to come closer, to comfort him, to ask all the right questions, to disarm him completely. <i>In your fairytales children were always happy, weren’t they?</i><br/>

“I don’t know, maybe because I didn’t have a father”. <i>Or mother. Because of your father who robbed me of it. And you’re here now looking at me, making me wish I was someone else. Someone I can never be.</i><br/>

“When I was a child-“ but she doesn’t finish. His finger is pressed right there, shushing her.<br/>

He tells her a story about angels and secrets. Of secrets man was made to forget, but to always discover again… It only seemed some were forever hidden from him.<br/>

“… and when an angel put a finger on our lips, we were left with this mark…” he says, fingertip pressed to the hollow of her upper lip. “It is there to remind us to always stay silent”<br/>

But she is close, so impossibly close and not kissing those lips is torture.<br/>

“What happens here stays here”.<br/>

<i>What happens here stays here…</i> A warning to himself, really… Promise that he will allow himself to feel, just this once. To have just a glimpse at what angels have hidden from him…Just this once and then never again…<br/>

He leans closer and presses his lips to hers for just a second. Pulling back he’s searching for her eyes… But they are on him, wide and honest as they’ve ever been. But he needs more so he’s searching again and it’s there. A barely there nod, just a hint of a smile… but they’re there. Damn him! If he was a better man, he would’ve asked.<br/>

Instead, he finds her lips again and his fingers find the strap of her slip. Her skin is so soft against his knuckles as they glide across it, taking the fabric down. Standing up, he takes her with him and they are standing so close… he can feel her chest rising and falling against his own. She’s trembling in his arms as he pulls the slip down. As the fabric pools around her feet, he is still looking at her eyes, basking in look he’s bound never to see again, inhales her breath.<br/>

Palm pressed against her check, his fingers brush the lobe of her ear and they go even further into her hair. Her breath hitched, just enough for lips to part and like a thief he sneaks in. And he’s kissing her with abandon, tasting her, claiming what he’s about to lose… His thumb found purchase in a small hollow, right next to her hip bone and he caresses. There is a whisper of moment beneath his fingers and she exhales into him, brings herself even closer to him.<br/>

As he lays her down on the mattress and covers her body with his, every part fits perfectly. Like puzzles, ridge for hollow… “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, it will go away, it will pass…” he whispers in her hair as she tries to muffle that little cry of pain against his shoulder. His eyes are on hers and she nods, small tear rolls out of the corner of her eye. But there is a small smile on her lips and it is in that instant that he knows… He knows with absolute certainty all his future days will be hell.<br/>

Closing his eyes, he presses his forehead to hers and begins to move, slowly, feeling every inch of her against his own body. He inhales each sigh from her lips, saving her breath for later when world turns colorless again. All her shudders at the end he takes in his crushing embrace and then follows her, face buried in her hair.<br/>

He didn’t tell her he loved her.<br/>

She didn’t say it either.<br/>

If this wasn’t love then he didn’t want to know… His soul was barely able to take this much in. If there was more, he wouldn’t survive it, he knew that for sure now. But he did curse at all the angels and their secrets, eyes closed and pretending to sleep as she nestled against his chest.<br/>

Only when her breath evened and he knew she was asleep, he opened them and didn’t close them again until morning.<br/>

If you asked Miran Aslanbey, he would tell you love was this fickle and distant thing, people only dream of and can never have.<br/>

But just to be sure, he reaches into himself and rips his heart out.<br/>

Then he leans over her and as she sleeps and puts a slow kiss on her forehead. With one shaky breath he releases everything he has left against her skin.<br/>

As the new day begins to dawn, what’s left of him, cold, pale and empty somehow gets out of bed. It stands by the window now, looks at all the grays outside and begins buttoning up his shirt…</p>
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